


Extinguish

by analog08



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Inspired by Firewatch (Video Game), Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexuality Crisis, Strangers to Lovers, Walkie-Talkie Inaccuracies, some trigger warnings for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:37:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analog08/pseuds/analog08
Summary: When Rhett impulsively takes a job monitoring forest fires in Wyoming, he finds a lot more than the inner peace he went searching for.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhincoln](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhincoln/gifts).



_**Los Angeles** _ **, CA 4/20/18 Friday**

Rhett has been staring at his laptop, motionless, for God knows how long now. His therapist suggested he do some research to further understand his mental health, but he doubts she was asking him to spend a night holed up alone in his studio apartment, panicking. He didn’t know what specifically caused this feeling of dread coursing through him, but it was there nonetheless and it seemed like with each passing second he grew more tense.

 

It had all seemed so sudden—earlier that evening, he was casually regaling her with some stories of his college days when she inhaled slightly irregularly and Rhett immediately halted, going on the defensive. “What?”

She was calm and reassuring when she answered him. “The way that you describe some of those events in college…”

Rhett was looking up at her, brows furrowed and an expression on his face that said, ‘ _tread lightly_ ’. Laura crossed her legs and rested a hand on her exposed ankle before she spoke again. “Have you ever examined your sexuality, Rhett?”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of him, and he spluttered for a second before he responded back flatly, “No, Laura. I _haven’t_.”

She held her hands up, laughing softly, palms towards Rhett in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, Rhett. You know what the job entails. The questions are personal, but necessary.” Across from her, Rhett stayed stock-still, refusing to participate. So Laura continued on.

“I don’t want to pry, but that’s kinda the point, you know.”

“Mmm.” Rhett hummed in response and crossed his arms. Laura chuckled warmly.

“What is your body language saying right now, Rhett?” Her tone was gentle, but the question cut right through him, faltering his breath for a second. _God_ , he hated feeling this exposed. He kept his arms folded.

“I don’t want to make any assumptions about you, but I _have_ known you for a year and a half now. I could be misinterpreting it, but your knee-jerk reactions are… telling, I think.”

He sighed through his nose and she sighed back, quieter.

“Am I overstepping a line here, Rhett?”

He wanted to tell her that _yes_ , she _was_ , but he really didn’t have it in him to be annoyed with her. As uncomfortable and off-putting her inquiries were, he knew she was just doing her job. Laura was a kind woman and in all honesty, Rhett lucked out with her as a therapist. In his first year of self-reflection, he bounced around from office to office, never feeling quite secure enough to book more than a month of appointments.

She was the first shrink who provided him with an instantly calming presence. Sure, there were the average hiccups that came with meeting someone new, but they smoothed over noticeably faster with Laura than with his previous therapists. And no one said therapy would be easy, right? So, he figured he owed her a polite answer.

“No, it’s okay, I guess.” Rhett grumbled, after a moment.

She nodded thoughtfully to herself. “Do you not want to talk about this?”

Rhett nodded at her and she pursed her lips back.

“You want a pamphlet?”

He laughed freely for the first time since she’d steered their conversation away from college stories. Something about the question caught him off guard and he let his head fall back—giggles escaping his throat. When he managed to calm himself, Laura was looking up at him with a smile on her face. However, an expectant look still lurked in her expression. Rhett’s laughter tapered off to a groan and he answered her before he could rethink it and stop himself.

“I guess so.” He muttered, softly. The second he said it, he felt a heat travel down his spine and he hoped to God his face wasn’t giving him away. Rhett felt laid bare and he was hoping she wouldn’t actually hear him speak at all.

Laura tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before she stood and walked to a filing cabinet wedged in the far corner of the room. As she rifled through it, Rhett tried to calm his nerves. He uncrossed his arms, but the loss of security was too much for him to bear for more than a few seconds. Almost immediately, he wrapped his arms around himself again, leg shaking nervously.

When Laura sat back down across from Rhett, she spoke matter-of-factly. “Since you don’t want to talk about it, you have some homework to do.”

His leg stopped bouncing in place and she continued. “If you don’t want to talk to me about it, can you promise me to spend 5 minutes on at least two of the resources provided?” Laura reached for a pen and circled a few of the websites before she leaned forward, pamphlet between her fingertips. Rhett’s eyes flicked down to the offending paper before he bit the inside of his cheek and moved to take it from her.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but it felt like his skin was vibrating wherever it came into contact with the paper.

As he was looking down at the pamphlet, Laura spoke again, placatingly. Gently. “If you can do that for me, we’ll never talk about it again. Sound good to you?”

And, _yeah_. That _did_ sound good to him. So, he nodded.

She nodded back. “Good.”

After leaving her office, he tried his hardest to put the pamphlet in the recesses of his mind, but it felt as if the paper was burning a hole in his back pocket where it resided. He white-knuckled the whole drive home.

When he got back from his therapy appointment, he made himself dinner, called the girl he was talking to and at the last second, avoided seeing her that night. As hard as he had tried to forget it, Laura’s words stuck in his mind and he knew he wouldn’t be able to conceal his nervous energy from Donna—even if they’d only been seeing each other for a few weeks.

Once Rhett had hit the ‘end’ function on his phone, he locked it and slid it into his back pocket. Standing in the middle of his living room, he debated with himself.

_Am I really going to do this? I don’t have to do it now; I won’t see her until next Friday. I have the time to put this off and just forget about it._

Rhett sighed to himself before stalking into his bedroom and grabbing his laptop. There was no way he’d be able to focus on anything else. Now or never, right?

He laid his computer on the table and walked to the cupboards, retrieving a mug and filling it with water from his fridge. As he poured his glass, he looked toward the dining table, trepidation evident on his face. He could’ve just stuck with Dr. Hoffer and endured the old man’s expressionless stares and silence. Yeah, maybe that wouldn’t have helped him grow, but maybe he didn’t _want_ to grow.

When he looked toward his cup again, he was seconds away from overfilling it and he quickly tipped the pitcher back upright—grumbling to himself about _his damn attention span_ , as if that was the problem. Rhett picked up his mug and walked back to his table, setting the cup down and reaching into his pocket to pull out the physical representation of his emotional turmoil. He had half a mind to just crumple it up, throw it away and lie to Laura—telling her he looked and leaving it at that. But, Rhett felt indebted to her—he had paid her for this service and to not hold up his end of the bargain was just… unacceptable. He wouldn’t allow himself to do that to her, no matter how badly he may have wanted to.

Rhett put the paper down next to his drink and computer and then sat down begrudgingly. His leg began bouncing the second his feet hit the floor—energy needing some way to escape his body. When he opened his laptop, he paused for a moment, willing himself to move. Rhett took a shuddering breath before typing in his password and hitting enter in one movement, too fast for second thoughts. The screen changed and Rhett’s wood grain background appeared. He sighed.

He didn’t know why he expected for someone or something to intervene, but nothing did, and he was almost disappointed that his computer didn’t spontaneously combust. The pad of his middle finger swiped the trackpad twice in search of the cursor and when he located it, he moved it to Safari, tapping open the application.

The tab opened and he was faced with a search bar. Rhett looked to the paper out of the corner of his eye, scanning the list for the least confrontational name that jumped out at him. There were a few links that were acronymic, and they seemed like the safest option to him.

 

 

 

_**Los Angeles** _ **, CA 4/22/18 Sunday**

Rhett knew that breaking things off with Donna would be difficult, but he had underestimated how effective her icy glare could be. She stood a foot or so shorter than him, but it was still obvious that she had the upper hand in the conversation. He cowered under her intimidating presence, but he knew he deserved it.

He tried to let her off as easy as possible, but there’s only so much one could do to lessen the sting of sudden departure. They were standing across from one another in Rhett’s kitchen, leaning against the cabinets. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and Rhett’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

She spoke, suddenly, breaking the tense silence between them. “This is bullshit, you know.”

Rhett hung his head, but he could still see her looking at him expectantly.

“I know,” he whispered back.

“What did I do?” she asked, almost before he could finish speaking.

At that, Rhett met her gaze with a pained look in his eyes. “Donna, I promise, nothing. I’ve loved getting to know you but I just…” He sighed and pulled a hand from his pocket, rubbing it over his face—probably more roughly than necessary. “I’m going through something right now and I can’t drag you into that.”

He took his hand away from his face and tried to get his shoulders to drop, just realizing the tension he held in his body. Donna’s glare softened a little, but it was still obvious that she was upset.

“Even if we’ve only been dating or talking for a while, I feel like I should end this now because… I don’t entirely know what’s going on with me right now and I can’t put that pressure on you, too.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds. It felt like hours to Rhett—every moment since leaving Laura’s office has felt either too fast or as if each passing second was its own day.

Donna took a deep breath in front of him before she spoke again, sadly. “I don’t understand.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Rhett’s voice broke and he quickly coughed in an attempt to hide it, but Donna noticed and she sighed slightly. It was an empathetic act—her kindness was something that drew him to her initially.

“Are you okay, Rhett? Do you want to talk about whatever it is?” Her voice was gentle and calming and she was trying to soothe him but it just made the guilt worse.

He could feel the tell-tale scratch in his throat as tears prickled at the corner of his eyes and he turned his head, unwilling to let her see him like that. Rhett took a few uneven breaths before he felt solid enough to respond. “I don’t think you could help me even if I explained it.”

 

 

 

_**Los Angeles** _ **, CA 4/28/18 Saturday**

Rhett just walked into his apartment when his phone buzzed against his thigh. He carried his bags into the kitchen and laid them down on the counter before he checked his notifications. When he looked at the screen, fear coursed through him.

Donna: ‘ _call me when you get the chance_ ’

“Oh, fuck.”

Rhett took a steadying breath in before sighing it out. There were still things to put away, so he set his phone down and began unpacking and putting away groceries with a newfound sense of dread following him. He mindlessly separated his food into cupboard and refrigerator groups and then started with the fridge pile. It only took him two trips to carry the items over to his fridge and because he was the sole tenant, there was plenty of space.

When he closed the door, he decided not to prolong his response any longer. He’d been diving into things headfirst it seemed, so why stop there?

With hunched shoulders, Rhett walked to the counter and retrieved his cell phone. He unlocked it and clicked on his messages, then Donna’s folder. As soon as he opened the message, it was marked as read and there _was_ no backing out. His thumb hovered over her name for a second before he tapped it and then the call function in one quick movement.

Immediately, he brought the phone up to his ear, heart racing in his chest. The ringing began and Rhett unknowingly held his breath. When the line was picked up he inhaled sharply and it was silent on the other side, so he spoke. 

“Hey… you told me to call you.” Right about then, Rhett really missed having a landline. When he was younger and on the phone for tense moments, he would twirl the cord in his fingers to expend some of his anxious energy.

“Yeah.” Donna left her response at that and he started to pace around his kitchen. “You left your blue sweatshirt at my apartment.”

“Um—” 

“So, I’ve been thinking…” She interrupted and honestly, he was grateful for it. “I’ve been looking back at it and I don’t know that we were right for each other, anyway.”

At any other time, Rhett might be hurt by that, but internally he was rejoicing—trying to keep his voice as even as possible. “Yeah?” He stopped walking and stood in the middle of his kitchen, left arm akimbo.

“Yeah. You’re a nice guy, but I don’t know that I could see us together in the long run. You’re… you’re kind of shut off, Rhett.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, it was deadpan. Rhett had no idea how to respond to that.

“Uh… Yeah. I, uh, I’m trying to work on that.” He wanted to laugh, but he knew that was inappropriate, so he bit his tongue and let her lead the conversation. 

“You should see a therapist.” Donna’s voice was tinged with pity and as much as Rhett wanted to clarify that he _was_ and that’s exactly why he was in this mess—he just grinned falsely behind his phone and dealt with it.

“Haha, yeah. You’re probably right.” The laugh he managed was so forced that he was truly surprised she didn’t pick up on it.

“Well, that’s pretty much all I wanted to say. I work overtime this weekend, but you can come over later in the week to get your shirt if you want—just text me.”

It was almost as if he was a machine set on autopilot when he responded back, “Yeah, okay. Will do.”

“Bye, Rhett.”

“Bye, Donna.”

Rhett pulled his phone away from his ear, hit the end button and then stood there for a second, staring at his phone blankly. A confused giggle made its way up his throat before he started full-on laughing. He threw an arm out on his counter to hold his body upright while waves of silent laughter hit him. The last time he laughed was in Laura’s offive when she gave him the ultimatum that started this all.

When he finally regained his breath, he sighed and straightend up slowly. In the back of his head, Rhett thought, ‘ _I can live without the shirt’_.

 

 

 

_**Los Angeles** _ **, CA 5/4/18 Friday**

Mae had invited him out for a few beers, and as much as he wanted to ditch the plans, he knew that he should be getting out of his apartment for things other than food and work. In addition to that, he really missed her. The last time they saw each other was right after graduation. His roommate had introduced them in sophomore year and they went on one date before mutually deciding they were better as friends. They’d kept in touch through Facebook, but pictures and birthday wishes couldn’t compare to a night spent drinking and shooting the shit.

The bar was pretty small, and Rhett silently appreciated it. The past two weeks felt like he’d been treading water and he didn’t think he could handle a crowd. As much as he wanted to stay in his apartment alone, he didn’t regret going out. Mae was sitting in front of him, letting him in on what she’d been up to for the past twenty-or-so years. God, had it really been that long?

“So, yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of odd jobs since college. Who knew an arts degree would make getting a job so hard?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and Rhett laughed warmly in response, bringing his bottle to his lips.

After his swig, he leaned his head on his hand and asked, “Odd jobs, like what?” He didn’t know where his curiosity came from—his engineering job wasn’t unpleasant, per se. The paycheck certainly wasn’t.

Mae hummed in thought before she answered. “Well, I was a caregiver for a little while. That was pretty fun. Babysitting, obviously, a lot of retail and delivery driving. I was a tour guide in Uwharrie Forest for a few summers.”

Across the booth, Rhett raised his eyebrows. “Really? You?” Of course, they had both changed quite a bit since college, but he would’ve never pegged her as a nature-type.

She was very clearly city-bound, even from the day he met her. When Gregg introduced them, she told him she was from Stem and she seemed thrilled to have made it out to Raleigh. Evidently, Raleigh wasn’t big enough for her, though.

She laughed heartily before teasing, “Yes, _me_ , Rhett.” Mae ran a hand through her hair before she continued, “An old girlfriend of mine was working a similar job and kinda pulled me into guiding. I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did, but it was cool. Once I learned the area and the wildlife, the job became more about getting to know who I was guiding and then slipping the information into conversation casually.”

Rhett nodded thoughtfully before he took a long sip of his beer. What did she mean by girl friend? He wasn’t going to ask. When he knew Mae in college, she had certainly been an open, curious person.

She was absentmindedly tapping her bottle along with the beat of the song playing. “So what about you? You were an engineer, right?”

Rhett nodded before expanding, “Yeah, civil engineering.”

Mae nodded back unconvincingly and Rhett laughed before explaining, “City planning and stuff. I work on water supply systems, mostly.”

She raised an eyebrow before asking, “Oh, so _you’re_ the reason L.A. tap water tastes like shit.”

He smiled at her from across the booth and raised his bottle towards her. “Yours, truly.” Mae giggled and he smirked through the mouth of his bottle while he finished it off.

There was a beat of silence between them where the only sound was the ambiance of the bar. Mae spoke again, voice gentler. “Really, though. How is it?”

Rhett shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s… fine I guess. Can’t complain, you know?”

Mae scrunched her nose and Rhett immediately regretted saying it.

“You’re allowed to complain.” Her voice had that same soft quality to it that Donna had in his kitchen when she’d asked if he was okay—if he wanted to talk.

He laughed soundlessly through his nose. “I know, Mae.” His tone was unconvincing, but she didn’t call him on it. She picked up her bottle and took a long drink. When she set it down, she broke the silence.

“You wanna be a forest guide?”

Rhett laughed and she followed right behind him, giggling and nearly knocking over her beer. He gave her a small smile and replied, “Don’t know that I could handle that many people.”

Ever the problem-solver, Mae shot back, “Watch for fires like my ex-girlfriend.”

There she went with the ‘girl friend’. She said it so casually that he almost wondered if it’s intentional. It wasn’t far-fetched—he had definitely taken on a weird energy since his pivotal therapy appointment and she was a historically sweet (and intuitive) girl. When he thought about it, he was pretty sure she was at that party where he drunkenly kissed that guy from Statistics class. Maybe she saw how little Rhett hesitated. Maybe she saw something in him that he couldn’t see himself.

Rhett took an uneven breath and crossed his arms.

“Watching for fires?”

“Mhm. She would get stationed out at a tower for a few months at a time, typically. She really liked it—it was kind of like the guiding, but she only had to talk to the towers around her and sometimes the townspeople. Sound more up your alley?” Mae raised her eyebrows in exaggeration and Rhett laughed back.

“Not really.” His statement was flat, but his voice was teasing and she grinned back at him. After a moment, something in her face softened and she cocked her head to the side slightly.

“How have you been, aside from work?”

Rhett sighed before answering, “Oh, you know…” His voice was distant and Mae stayed silent, letting him continue. “Think I had a breakthrough in therapy a little while ago. I’ll… I’ll get back to you on that.” He laughed a bit and because Mae was such a nice person, she left it at that.

She nodded and reached for her beer, bringing it to her lips. Rhett uncrossed his arms and set his palms flat on the table, empty bottle situated between his hands.

She finished off her beer and let out a dramatic sigh of appreciation, which Rhett chuckled at. When she set her bottle down on the wooden tabletop, she clearly hesitated for a second before reaching forward and resting a hand on top of Rhett’s. He looked up at her and she was looking back with kind eyes.

“You have my number if you need me.” As soon as she finished saying it, she retracted her hand from his—almost unwilling to admit it happened.

Rhett nodded back, deciding to move past it, too. He was grateful, nonetheless.

Mae stretched in her seat before she puffed air into her cheeks and let it out slowly. “I wanna get another beer but I know I’ll regret it in the morning. I better get going. Keep in touch, okay?” She gave him a pointed look and he chuckled back.

“Of course, Mae. Promise.” His voice was quiet, tinged with reassurance and something else he couldn’t quite place.

She picked up her phone and ordered a ride before sliding out of the booth. When she stood, she stretched and cracked her back and Rhett smiled up at her in amusement. Mae took a step forward and leaned in, giving Rhett a side-hug and a kiss on the cheek simultaneously.

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her loosely. “Hope you like the beard.”

She pulled away and he followed suit, letting his arm rest back on the tabletop.

“You know, I do like it. It suits you.” Her voice was sincere and it brought heat to his face.

“Thanks, Mae.” Rhett responded softly, unable to look at her properly, aware that his face was flushed from more than just the alcohol.

“Of course, Rhett.” Her phone vibrated and she looked down at the screen. “That’s my ride! It was so good to see you.”

He looked up again and warmly said, “You, too, Mae. G’night.”

“Night, hon.”

Rhett watched as she weaved her way through the bar and slipped out of the door. He supposed he should get going, too.

Rhett scooted out of the booth and walked to the bar, sitting down on a stool that was blessedly vacant. It took a minute for the bartender to get to him and he felt out of place without Mae there with him. He pulled his phone from his pocket and began checking his emails to distract himself.

It worked—when the bartender finally got to him, he stuttered his request.

“Uh, w-water, please.” The man behind the bar smirked, but nodded and moved to fill the order. Rhett looked back down at his phone and thanked the bartender, picking up his glass without looking up. He finished it quickly and thankfully—it seemed he was giving out pretty strong ‘unwilling to talk’ vibes, because he was left alone while he slowly drank his water.

Once he was sure he had sobered up enough, he sighed softly and put his phone back in his pocket. Rhett left money for his tab, and a tip probably too generous with the look he was given.

The walk from the bar to his car was uneventful and he let his mind wander. It hit him that on Monday, he’d have to go back to work—back to tackling the impossible task of maintaining Los Angeles’ water supply. When he got in his car, he completely forgot to turn on the radio while he started his vehicle and pulled away, lost in his head.

He went into civil engineering with the hopes that he could have job security and help society simultaneously, but it seemed only the former worked out. He’d been working with the water systems in L.A. for nearly a decade and he still got the same, shitty quips about the tap water.

_Bet Mae’s ex didn’t have to hear jokes about how ineffective her job was_. Rhett smirked to himself while he sat at a stoplight a few blocks from his house. _Bet she didn’t have to hear much of anything—‘cept maybe the wildlife_.

That really didn’t seem too bad to Rhett.

When he made it home, he pulled into the parking lot for his apartment complex. It was only then that he realized he’d sat in silence for the entire ride back.

Mae’s words stuck in his head for some reason, and he pulled his phone from his pocket.

He typed, ‘ _fire lookout jobs usa_ ’ into the search bar of Safari and hit ‘Go’ in the same movement. The first link was a website dedicated to fire lookouts and he tapped the screen, figuring it was his best bet. On the page there was a list of states that contain forest fire watching jobs. He scrolled through absentmindedly. 

Rhett neared the end of the list when ‘ _Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming_ ’ caught his eye. He’d always wanted to go to Yellowstone.

He clicked on the link attached to it and it redirected him to a website listing the qualifications for the job. As Rhett scrolled down, he realized he fit all of the requirements. He furrowed his brow and opened another tab, typing in, ‘ _yellowstone nationl park_ ’.

When his screen loaded, he tapped the ‘images’ tab and he was met with pictures of expansive skies, mountainous breccia and utter isolation.

He wanted to be there. He’d spent nearly 20 years wanting it, but this time was different.

Rhett pressed his home button and then tapped his texting application. It took him an embarrassingly short time to find his bosses name among the list. He had been ‘really busy with work’ to all of his friends for a few weeks. In reality, he was working as much overtime as his boss would let him.

His thumb selected Arthur’s name and the second the keyboard popped up, Rhett was typing out a brief, but formal 2 weeks notice. Rhett cited ‘personal issues’ for the suddenness of his departure and he hoped to God no one would press him as to why he quit at 11:54 PM.

His finger didn’t hesitate when he pressed the ‘send’ button and he let out a breath he was unaware he was holding in. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, and it was quickly replaced with the cold wash of utter dread and unease. He reached forward and turned his key, cutting the engine. The silence in his car impossibly thickened.


	2. Chapter Two

**_Denver, CO_ ** **5/19/18 Saturday**

  
  


It’s only when walking through the airport to catch his flight to Cody that Rhett realizes how stupid it was to bring his guitar along with him. It isn’t too heavy— thankfully the only case he has is a soft fabric gig bag. However, it’s attached to his new hiking backpack with a carabiner, and it’s pendulating with each step he takes. He has to hike just over 7 miles to get to his tower and he’s already regretting his decision. 

 

Rhett didn’t have time to notice it swinging annoyingly when he was flying into Denver; He was too preoccupied trying to catch his midday flight out of LAX. He hadn’t been on a plane in a few years, so he’d forgotten the chaos of air travel. For the last few years, he had been opting to stay in California with his small circle of friends for the holidays. He supposed that once this job was over in the middle of the summer, he’d fly back out to Harnett County and break the news. At least then if it went bad, he wouldn’t be obligated to stay through New Years. He just needed one summer alone to figure this out.

 

He hoped his guitar would get more use in Wyoming than it did in his apartment. When he first moved in, his neighbors on the left taped a strongly worded letter about him making a racket past 8 PM. The next night he tried again, muting the strings with his palm when the clock rolled over. In the morning he was greeted with a dirty look while walking to his mailbox. It’d been at least two years since he’d gotten to practice freely.

 

As Rhett handed over his boarding pass and walked to his seat, he made a mental note to text Mae once he landed— warning her of his easily-annoyed neighbors. There wasn’t much for her to do, just collect his mail and make sure his valuables remained intact. He would’ve felt guilty about asking her to do it in the first place, but she made it clear that she wanted him to reach out more.

 

And he promised that he would.

  
  
  
  


**_Cody, WY_ ** **5/19/18 Saturday**

  
  


When Rhett’s flight lands in Cody, he retrieves his guitar and hiking bag and takes the nearest seat available in the airport. He really should have thought this out better. There is  _ no _ way he’ll make it out to his tower by sundown. 

 

His leg begins bouncing anxiously and he pulls out his phone to search for hotels.  _ Thank God I flew out a day early. Won’t be able to rest much before work starts up, though.  _ The screen loads and there are quite a few chain hotels, but a wooden, cabin-style ranch catches his eye. It’s definitely not meant for one person, no matter how big Rhett may be. He decides to get it anyway. 

  
  


On his ride out to the ranch, he makes small talk with his Uber driver after wrestling his belongings into the trunk. 

 

“So, what brings you out to Cody?” According to the app, his name was Anthony.

 

His driver may seem nice, but Rhett doesn’t expect divulging his recent crisis to go over well. Whether it be the mental illness or the sexuality, he expects the information to hang heavily in the air afterwards. 

 

Instead, he opts for the abridged version. “Uh, took a job out here. I’ve always heard good things about Yellowstone and I kind of jumped on the opportunity.” Rhett chuckles under his breath at the understatement.

 

“Oh, yeah, it’s beautiful out here. In a few miles we’ll be passing Buffalo Bill Reservoir— we could stop if you want?” He glances over to the right to catch Rhett’s eyes for a second.

 

He almost agrees, until he remembers how much money he’s already gone through this month. Between the new hiking equipment, the flights, the lodging… he’s spent enough frivolously. “Ah, I think I’ll just observe from the car.”

 

Anthony nods and it’s quiet for a moment. Rhett wonders if it’d be rude to turn the radio on to break the silence.

 

“You said you’re out here for a job— what do you do?” 

 

“Well, I was working as an industrial engineer up until Friday. I just took a job watching for fires out near Citadel Mountain.” In his lap, Rhett fiddles with the soft rubber case surrounding his phone.

 

“What, like last Friday?”

 

Rhett chuckles lightly before answering back, “Yeah. Work starts Monday.”

 

Anthony raises his eyebrows and shakes his head slightly in an exaggerated expression of disbelief. Rhett actually laughs at that.

 

They’re coming up on a subterranean passage— cut through the base of a comparatively small mountain. There are uneven, jagged walls leading up to it. When they pass through, Rhett gets his first clear view of how far down the gorge on his left is. They emerge through another short tunnel and Rhett has just enough time to make out a sign for the Buffalo Bill dam before they drive into a much longer, illuminated tunnel.

 

Anthony continues to stay silent as they coast through, lights creating patterns as they dance across the interior of the car. Rhett can see the sunlight shining in at the end of the tunnel. It mirrors the yellow glow given off by the striplights above him, but the contrast between artificial and authentic is noticeable. When they pass through the other side, it takes his breath away. The sun is setting, almost entirely concealed behind a lower peak in the distance, and the orange light it’s emitting is tinting the sky and reflecting off of the water beautifully.

 

There aren’t many clouds, but the ones that are hanging around are wispy and dispersed unevenly throughout the sky. They’re dark grey and despite there being only a few of them— they stand out dramatically against the warm toned sunset.

 

“Wow.” Rhett doesn’t say it, so much as he breathes it.

 

Anthony doesn’t seem phased when he shoots back, “Welcome to Wyoming.”

  
  


When they pull up to the cabins, Rhett bids his driver farewell after retrieving his bag and guitar and looks around in search of an employee. The sun's gone down by now, and he walks around the gravel aimlessly for a moment before spotting someone. It’s too dark to make him out completely, but from what he can gather, the man is a few years younger than Rhett with dark curly hair. He’s shorter than Rhett, but that doesn’t surprise him.

 

“Excuse me?” Rhett calls out, in his most friendly-sounding voice. Even though his flights were only two and one and a half hours respectively, he was definitely feeling the effects of them. 

 

By the time the man responds, they’re at a speaking distance so he adjusts his voice accordingly. “Yeah?” He comes to a stop and hooks one of his thumbs in the pocket of his jeans.

 

“I’m Rhett. I just flew in here— do you know where I go to get my key?” His backpack is slung over one shoulder and he’s holding his guitar by its central handle. 

 

The man nods enthusiastically, “Oh, yeah. I had that problem too, they should really make it more obvious. If you go in the restaurant and talk to someone behind the bar they’ll get you to your cabin. I’m headed that way, if you want me to take you? I’m Justin, by the way.”

 

Rhett clicks his tongue softly before answering back, “Yeah, that’d be great actually. Nice to meet you, Justin.” Rhett reaches forward and the man— Justin, does too, clasping hands and shaking twice firmly.

 

“You, too, Rhett.” They let go at the same time, almost in a practiced effort. Justin turns around, looking over his shoulder at Rhett before informing him, “Right this way.”

 

Rhett smiles a little and starts to follow him wordlessly. After a few steps, Justin looks back again and asks, “So, how long you in town for?”

 

The casual nature in Justin’s voice unconsciously pulls out Rhett’s accent when he responds. “‘Bout two months or so.”

 

Justin whips his head back and because they’re nearing a large building with uncovered windows, Rhett can see the look on his face. “You’re booking a cabin here for two  _ months _ ?”

 

“Oh—” Rhett chuckles before clarifying. “No, I’m here for the night and I’m going out to Citadel Mountain in the morning.”

 

Justin pulls open the door and holds it for him. While Rhett ducks under his arm, his new friend responds, “Oh, okay. That makes more sense. Nice, man. I’m headed out that way, too. You ever seen Yellowstone Lake?”

 

Rhett takes a seat at the nearest table and Justin slides into the chair across from him. “No, I haven’t. I’m in town for work. Never been to Wyoming before.” He leans to the side and places his guitar on the ground beside him.

 

Across the table, Justin nods thoughtfully. “Well, when you get the chance— Lake Butte Outlook is great.” 

 

He doesn’t have the heart to lie to Justin and pretend like he’ll have the opportunity while he’s out here, so he just says, “I’ll keep it in mind.” It’s silent for a moment and Rhett clears his throat.

 

“Well, Justin. Thanks for the impromptu tour guide—” he snorts in response and Rhett continues on, “but I’ve gotta go to bed. It was nice meeting you.”

 

Justin hums in agreement and replies, “You, too, Rhett. See you around.”

 

At that, Rhett picks his guitar back up and scoots his chair out to walk over to the bar. There’s a woman pouring drinks and she makes eye contact with him, shooting him an ‘ _ I’ll get to you in a minute _ ’ look. He decides to sit down on a barstool while he waits for her to finish up.

 

While he has a moment to himself, he checks his phone. The first notification on the screen is from his bank. His ride to the ranch cost nearly fifty dollars and in the back of his mind, he thinks, ‘ _ Can’t wait for the ride back _ ’. Rhett slides his phone back into his pocket and looks around the building clearly for the first time. It’s got stone and dark green accents, likely inspired by the landscape surrounding them. Most of the interior is wooden— from the flooring to the ceiling. Something about the homely, simple beauty of woodworking has always intrigued Rhett. As he looks around, he decides that it was worth the price. Perhaps he was a bit biased, though.

 

He’s pulled away from his thoughts by the bartender. “How can I help you, sir?” Her voice is pretty flat, and it’s obvious she’s just as tired and cranky as he is.

 

“I booked online and I need my key.” 

 

“Okay, let me go check.” She’s walking away before he has the chance to respond. His eyes follow her as she leans over a monitor on the other end of the bar. After a few seconds, she turns to him and asks, “McLaughlin?”

 

She doesn’t pronounce it right, but he nods and doesn’t bother correcting her. He can see her hand reach under the lip of the bar and come back out holding a keychain. While she walks back over to Rhett, he notices that the keychain is dark green, matching the door he entered from.

 

“You’re in cabin four. If you go out the entrance and to the left, it’s the second one. There’s also a sign on the front, so you should be able to find it.” She chuckles while she hands him the key and he laughs back, but it’s artificial and hollow. He’s quickly reaching his breaking point. The flights weren’t  _ that _ bad, but it was all adding up and he just wanted to sleep.

 

“Could I get you anything else?

 

“No, I think I’m alright. Thanks for the help.”

 

She nods. “Of course.”

 

With that, Rhett stands to exit and tries not to seem too eager to leave. On his way out, Justin nods to him in acknowledgment and Rhett mirrors him before slipping out into the chilly air of the night.

 

When he makes it outside, he doesn’t have to feign politeness anymore and he begins a brisk walk to his cabin. Thanks to his mile-long legs, he makes it there in a few seconds and immediately thrusts the key into the lock. The door opens and he flicks the light on, steps in and sighs, putting his bags down.  _ Finally _ . Rhett turns back and closes and bolts the door.

 

The cabin and all of its furnishings are wooden, as well. The frame of the bed is made up of thick, pale logs and the bedding is a Native American “inspired” print with flora and animals on it. There’s a door to his right that he assumes is the bathroom, but he doesn’t have the energy to check.

 

Rhett hits the lightswitch and uses his phones lock screen to guide his way to the bed. He sits down on the edge of it and toes his shoes off, immediately after he’s unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down his legs and onto the floor. Any other time and he’d have the foresight to remove his layers, but right now he was desperately trying to surrender to sleep. 

 

Whether it be the flights, the social interaction or just the general funk he was in— Rhett falls asleep in a sweatshirt and boxers. He’s unconscious seconds after his head comes to rest on the decorative pillows.

  
  
  
  


**_Cody, WY_ ** **5/20/18 Sunday**

  
  


When Rhett wakes up, he’s affronted by rays of light beaming in over the top of his cabin’s blinds. He hadn’t noticed it last night, but there was a large gap between the curtain and the windowsill. When the reviews said ‘rustic’, they certainly weren’t being facetious. He throws his arm over his eyes to adjust to the sunlight.

 

After a moment he retracts it and opens his eyelids regretfully, stretching his arms over his head. A guttural groan leaves his throat as he tenses his muscles and he ends it with a sigh, relaxing back into the mattress.  _ What are the chances that the restaurant is serving breakfast?  _

 

To Rhett’s delight, he can smell bacon cooking when he walks through the door. Immediately after, he spots Justin on his phone, drinking a mug of what Rhett presumes to be coffee. He looks up at the noise and catches Rhett’s eye, nodding in recognition. Now with the daylight, Rhett can clearly make him out. Justin’s got dark tendrils peeking out from underneath a blue Cheyenne baseball cap. His skin is olive toned and his eyes are so dark brown that from far away, his pupils are masked entirely.

 

The same woman from last night is behind the bar, looking considerably more welcoming. Rhett makes his way to her and she greets him as soon as he approaches.

 

“Mornin’. Can I help you with anything?” She sounds less irritable and Rhett’s glad— both for himself and for her.

 

“Good morning. Y’all serve food, right?” Rhett puts an elbow on the bar and leans his weight onto it slightly.

 

“We do!” She reaches down to retrieve a menu from below the bar and hands it back to him. “You need a minute?”

 

The question catches Rhett off guard and he stumbles. “Uh, no. I’ll have…” He looks down to the paper and orders the first breakfast item he sees. “Buffalo Bill breakfast, please?”

 

“Of course!” She turns on her heel to place his order and he laughs soundlessly at her brusque attitude. Rhett expects his food to take a while, so he walks over to Justin and sits down at a table close to him.

 

“Morning, man.” 

 

“Morning— Rhett, right?” He nods and Justin continues. “Did you like your cabin?”

 

Rhett crosses his ankles under his table. “I did. I went out like a light but it was nice from what I saw of it.” He laughs and Justin does, too.

 

“So, you from Wyoming?” Rhett asks.

 

Justin nods and sets his mug on the faux-stone tabletop. “Mhm. Casper originally. My family used to vacation in Yellowstone, so I’m going fishing.” He picks up his coffee and takes a long sip, looking away from Rhett.

 

He seems cagey and uncomfortable, but Rhett doesn’t feel like it’s his place to judge him. He’s just as guarded as Justin— if not more.

 

Rhett glances towards the bar and sees the woman behind the counter coming from the back with a plate of food in her hands. There’s no doubt that it’s his, so he stands and walks to retrieve his breakfast. It’s so early that the room is relatively empty, aside from Rhett, Justin and a few stragglers who’d already been served.

 

When he gets to the bar, she quickly hands him his plate and cutlery, wrapped inside a napkin. “Here you go. Enjoy, and let me know if you need anything.” Rhett nods curtly and thanks her before he turns away, walking back to his table.

 

As he nears, Justin pushes out the chair opposite him with his foot. “Wanna just sit here?” Rhett nods and bypasses his previous table to eat his food with his temporary friend.

 

Thankfully, the ‘Buffalo Bill Breakfast’ was an omelet, two pieces of toast, two pieces of bacon and two sausages. It resembled something he’d make for himself if he had the motivation in the mornings.

 

When he sits down, he digs in immediately and Justin laughs quietly. Rhett doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed about his eating; his first flight was only two and a half hours so subsequently, he hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday.  _ And _ he has a long trek later.

 

He finishes his mouthful of food and inquires, “So, you’re going to Yellowstone Lake, right?” Rhett uses his fork to cut a bite-sized piece of his sausage.

 

“Yep. Morning’s the best time to fish. It’s got slim pickings, but it’s more of a nostalgia thing, you know?” Justin takes a sip of his coffee and Rhett nods while chewing.

 

“Maybe you’ll see my tower out there.”

 

“Oh— You’re a lookout?” His head cocks to the side and Rhett nods again. “Right, Citadel Mountain. I might be able to see your tower from where I’ll be.”

 

“I’ll wave to you.” Justin laughs heartily and Rhett smiles back through his food.

 

“When are you leaving?” He asks and it hits Rhett that he’ll have to spend  _ more _ money to get out to his starting point. Maybe he should’ve just driven out here. 

 

“Uh, pretty much right after I eat. When my ride shows up.”

 

“Cody Cab?” Justin inquires.

 

Rhett finishes chewing his toast and answers, “No, Uber.”

 

It’s quiet for a moment while he continues eating and Justin sips his drink. Rhett’s finished everything but his toast at this point.

 

“I think we’re headed the same direction anyway— you want me to give you a ride?”

 

His eyebrows raise at the question and he finishes chewing before asking, “You sure?” incredulously.

 

Justin just waves his hand in response. “When you’re ready we’ll head out.” He waits a beat before asking, “Sound good?”

 

Rhett’s beyond grateful, so he nods back fervently and puts the remainder of his toast on his plate. “Of course— I’m ready now.”

 

With that, they both walk to the bar and pay their tabs. When they make their way out the door, Justin looks over to Rhett and asks, “Be ready in ten?” to which he nods curtly.

  
  


The ride to his mountain is near silent for the first few minutes. Justin’s got the radio on and it’s Rhett’s first chance to really pay attention to the local Wyoming broadcast. It’s a facsimile of the stations he’s heard before; Mellow pop songs intermittently stopped by over-enthusiastic disc jockeys.

 

When Rhett decides he’s had enough of the radio, he turns to look at Justin. “So, you fish out here?” It’s only after saying it that Rhett realizes how lame he sounds.

 

Justin seems to ignore it, though. “Yeah, used to. I, uh… I’ve got some family stuff goin’ on right now and I just needed to get away, you know.”

 

Rhett laughs humorlessly. “Yep, I got you. Believe me.” They both sit wordlessly, letting the music take over the atmosphere for them. It probably should have felt more weird, sitting in silence next to a stranger, but something tells Rhett that they’re more alike than they are different. As they near Rhett’s turn-off, he speaks again. “It’s your next left, and then follow that road down.”

 

Beside him, Justin nods and taps his thumb against the wheel to the beat of the radio. When they approach his destination, his hand shifts to push the turn signal before he turns, and it’s only then that Rhett realizes how dangerous this was. It’s too late now, so he’s just grateful that Justin turned out to be a responsible driver.

 

The road to his hike’s starting point is long and winding, with turn-offs that they bypassed. There are only a few houses around them, for the most part they’re surrounded by vast greenery. As they near the end of the road and the beginning of Rhett’s trek, the flat, grassy land transitions to dense groups of trees. 

 

Rhett can see the end of the road coming up so he tells Justin, “You can just drop me off here. I’ve got a ways to walk, anyway.” He chuckles and Justin does too, nodding and pulling his car to the side of the road. When the car rolls to a stop, Rhett leans to the side and reaches a hand back to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket.

 

“Oh— No, man, don’t worry about it. I was going this way in the first place.” 

 

Rhett pauses and looks up. “You serious? Come on, let me pay you.”

 

Justin just shakes his head in response. “I’m serious. I don’t mind, it’s only like a dollar extra to get here. Plus, you kept me company for breakfast.” He smirks at Rhett, who shakes his head back in disbelief.

 

“Did the tourist bureau send you to bring people in to Wyoming, or somethin’?” 

 

Justin snorts and shakes his head. “Nah, just trying to be nice.”

 

“Well, I appreciate it.” Rhett unbuckles his seatbelt and tries again. “You’re sure I can’t give you anythin’?”

 

“No, it’s okay.” Justin’s voice indicates that he’s not lying and Rhett doesn’t know how to react. After a second he just reaches forward to shake hands with Justin once again. He takes it immediately and they shake twice before separating.

 

“Thank you for the ride,” Rhett says sincerely, reaching for the door handle. Justin leans down to a lever below his seat and pops the trunk for Rhett. 

 

“No worries, man.” 

 

Rhett nods and opens the door, walking to the back of the car and lifting the trunk open fully. He pulls out his hiking and guitar bag, clipping them together before he puts his backpack on. When he walks back along the side of the car and to his open door, he leans down.

 

“Thanks again.” 

 

“Of course. Have fun out here.”

 

Rhett chuckles and nods. “Bye, Justin. It was nice meeting you.”

 

“You, too.” With that, Rhett straightens his back and closes the door, starting to walk down the worn dirt path. From what he remembers, he can follow Green Creek to get partway to the tower. 

 

He’s tempted to use his phone to play music, but he’s going to need it to navigate. So, as he hikes, he lets his mind wander. For the last month, he’d been letting it wander.

 

Rhett could handle coming out to the people he knew back in L.A. If they weren’t receptive, he’d have no problem ending the relationship. He’s spent long enough biting his tongue.

  
  


The people back in Harnett county, though? That’s a different beast entirely, somehow. Throughout school, Rhett didn’t care that much what people thought of him. He’d gone through phases— all in front of the people he’d known his whole life— so why was this harder for him?  _ Why is it easier to put on some fuckin’ persona than just tell the truth? _

 

Rhett sighs and pauses for a moment to rest. He reaches over his shoulder and fumbles for a second before finding purchase on his backpack’s built-in water bottle. It takes a second for him to calm his breathing enough to drink, and while he waits, he looks around.

 

The creek is bubbling softly to his left, and in front and all around him there are far away, snow-capped mountains. He’s cutting through the middle of a valley to get to the base of the mountain. It isn’t clear which yet, but one of the peaks in the distance is  _ his _ mountain— his home for the next two months.

 

The thought only partially fills him with dread.

 

He pulls the spout to his mouth and takes a long sip. Rhett can’t help but think that the sky looks more blue out here, somehow. Maybe he’s biased, though.

 

After another moment of taking in the scenery and hydrating, Rhett continues on hiking. The pace he sets isn’t ideal for a hiker, but he forges on, nonetheless.

 

For the past month, he’d been bedeviled by his brain unconsciously making connections. Rhett would be sitting alone at his office, tapping his pen against his desktop while thinking when he’d remember something…  _ telling _ .

 

His initial realization was about his first time recognizing homophobia— recognizing how it made him feel. It didn’t hit him until much later in life that the pit in your stomach and the cold sweat that forms on the backs of your knees isn’t a normal reaction— it’s a guilty one. It’s an ashamed, desperate, scared reaction. So, he ignored it the best he could.

 

And being… liking women made it easy enough to ignore. He could have a semi-steady girlfriend for a while. Whenever it progressed, though, and they’d ask about kids, living together, meeting his family… Rhett would shut down.

 

Looking back on it, that should have been a sign. But, it wasn’t Rhett’s time— or, at least that’s what he tells himself now.

 

Even with his back slowly starting to ache, lungs struggling and no real plan for the future, Rhett doesn’t regret it. He read an article once that waxed poetic about the beneficial properties of nature, and he believes it.

 

He’s certainly feeling tumultuous, but he’s also feeling more free than he has in a long,  _ long _ time. 

 

As he nears the end of Green Creek, he takes out his phone and opens the compass to calculate his positioning and aim himself for the supply drop he’s nearing. Around 2 more miles hiking would bring him there, and he’d be able to retrieve what the last lookout left for him. Tomorrow, it’ll be his box and subsequently, his only physical connection to the town around him.

 

Rhett decides to shoot Mae a text of appreciation and forewarning for his petulant neighbors before he forgets, and then he puts his phone away and continues on his journey.

 

His path is leading downwards and Rhett naturally starts to jog down the turf. It’s then that he makes a mental note to either forgo the guitar altogether, or bring a second carabiner to secure the bag more tightly. The whole jog downward, he’s being hit in the hips and he can tell it’ll be sore in the morning.

 

It only takes one more similar climb and descent down a relatively small hill before Rhett can see his drop in the distance. The box is bright yellow, about knee-height and plastic, from the looks of it. A few days after he got the job, he was sent more information to prepare him— so, he knows that the supply drop also has a combination lock, despite being unable to see it from this distance.

 

The area leading up to the drop is worn down, and Rhett can see that there’s an eroded trail beyond it as well. When Rhett approaches it, he squats down in front of the box to open it. Now that he can see it clearly, he notices that there’s a large, simplistic drawing of a tree on the top.

 

It takes a second, but he manages to input ‘ _ 4 _ - _ 3 _ - _ 5 _ - _ 5 _ ’ in the rolling mechanism and he pulls down, unlocking it. The lid opens, and Rhett’s greeted with a few grocery bags, a brown paper bag and a sealed manila envelope. He takes out the folder, first.

 

Rhett pinches the metal prongs together and opens the flap on top. He looks in the paper to see crudely drawn maps left for him by the previous lookout, along with the keys to his tower. He flips the envelope over and moves to catch the keys, sliding them into the pocket of his cargo shorts. After, he reaches into the folder to examine the maps left for him.

 

According to them, there was another supply drop a few miles from Citadel tower. From there, Rhett would pass food and other necessities to the inhabitant of Carter tower. It sounded easy enough. The hiking trips with the additional weight of two people’s food supply will be unpleasant, but he can handle it.

 

His thighs are burning, so he switches positions and kneels down on one leg to shift his weight. The maps that were provided are appreciated, but most of it is information Rhett could find himself, so he doesn’t bother looking for long. He’s burning daylight. Rhett slips his bag off his shoulders and starts loading the supplies into his already-full backpack. From what he can see, the food is packaged, canned or fresh produce with a decent shelf life. 

 

Thankfully, Rhett packed mostly clothes, so he stacks the cans on top and pushes down to make room. There are two boxes of cereal and for a second, he stops to plan out how exactly he’ll fit them in. He ends up shoving one of them down the back of the bag and once that’s situated— it’s clear that the other box will not fit.

 

Rhett just puts it aside for a moment, deciding to cross that bridge when he comes to it. He peeks inside the paper bag and sees that it’s holding toothpaste and other toiletries. The rest of the groceries are all fruit and vegetables, but luckily, the majority of them aren’t at risk for bruising. He fills the bag with potatoes, oranges, carrots and two pomegranates. There’s a bag of apples and Rhett puts it on top in hopes that the pressure from his guitar won’t destroy too many of them.

 

After he zips up his backpack, he unclips his guitar and rests the hiking bag on the dirt. The front of his guitar bag has a pocket for sheet music and Rhett picks up the second box and prays it’ll fit before unzipping it. The second box of cereal fits in his guitar bag with room to spare, and he sighs in relief. He leans forward and picks up the paper drugstore bag and slides it in the pocket, alongside the cereal. Rhett takes a second to look around and make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything before zipping his guitar bag back up and clicking it back onto his hiking bag.

 

He stands and stretches his knees and back before picking his luggage up once again. According to the map, he’s roughly halfway to his tower and once he reaches the top of the peak in front of him, he’ll be able to see it. It brings out a renewed energy in him and he pockets the maps, puts the folder back in the box and locks it back up before continuing his ascent.

 

The added weight definitely makes itself known, and he wishes he’d remembered to bring painkillers. Then again, it wasn’t that bad. He’s handled worse.

 

As he walks, he begins to think about it all. If Laura was right— and all signs pointed to it- Rhett would have to admit this part of himself to his family. He doesn’t expect his deeply religious Southern family to react too well to it.

 

His mother might not be  _ too _ bad. She’d definitely treat him differently, and he knew he could expect snide comments. However, his Dad and older brother were a whole different story. It was never said blatantly, but Rhett knew from an early age that to be gay or in any way aligned was  _ not _ something the McLaughlins did. He knew that the reactions he got would only be varying degrees of unacceptance.

 

Rhett can remember how the men in his family reacted when a girl in their church came out. They were all sitting around the dinner table, talking. He was just about to start high school at the time.

 

He and his mom stayed mostly silent, while his brother and father spoke about how  _ sick _ she was and how they would pray for her. Their words weren’t outright harsh, but coupled with the disdain in their voices— it was clear how they truly felt. He hadn’t put two and two together, but for months afterward, Rhett felt on edge. He spent most of his time outside after that.

 

He’s nearing the crest of the hill and he can feel his excitement building with each step. In just a few feet, Rhett will be able to see the area he’ll call home for the next two months. The thought is equal parts reassuring and terrifying.

 

Because he’s so tall, he’s able to see over the peak before he gets to it. He pauses at the top of the hill and marvels at the sight before him. There’s a thicket of deep viridescent trees on his left and there’s loose rock and grass all down the mountain leading to his tower.

 

Citadel Tower is much taller than he pictured it. He should have expected that, but it surprises him nonetheless. There are four staircases winding up the base of the tower, leading up to his observatory. From the looks of it, the structure is mostly made of steel, aside from the roof, which is dark stained wood.

 

Rhett starts to make his way down the last hill and through the meadow. The closer he gets, the more he’s able to make out. The grass growing around his tower is trampled down. His eyes follow the patch and he notices that it leads to a semi-visible trail to the left of him.

 

It seems the other lookouts have found the quickest route, so he moves over to follow it. Occasionally, there are small patches of yellow flowers growing in the meadow next to him.  _ Daisies, maybe?  _ He doesn’t know, he was always more interested in the physical side of nature than the botanical one. Especially in his teens and college years, heading out for a walk or going camping was his most reliable coping mechanism.

 

It was ironic, really— here he was continuing his cycle, two decades later. He supposes there are worse things to rely on than isolation and connecting to the earth in an almost primal way.

 

There’s a creek a few feet ahead of him, and it’s clear he’ll need to cross it to get to his tower. Rhett sighs half-heartedly. There are a few rocks that he could use to walk on, but his balance is already bad, and it’s only made worse by the swinging guitar on his back. He slips the backpack off his shoulders and unhooks his guitar bag once again. The creek is only a few feet wide, so he’d be able to jump across it relatively easily.

 

Once his hiking bag is on his back once again, Rhett picks up his guitar by the handle and takes a few steps backwards. He jogs forward and makes it across the creek easily, in a move akin to hurtling.

 

With his tower in sight, Rhett can’t be bothered to put his guitar back. He opts instead, to just carry it for the last two hundred or so feet. The trail takes him around a small body of water, and he makes a mental note to check the maps to identify it later. From what he can tell, it’s connected to the water he just jumped over.

 

When he makes it to the base of his tower, he continues walking straight up the first staircase. As much as he wanted to rest, he knew that prolonging the climb would be more bothersome to him. With each step he takes, the stairs groan and clang metallically.

 

He rounds a corner with one hand dragging along the railing and begins to ascend the second round of stairs. He’s up higher than a majority of the trees, now. The tendons in his hand are protruding with the stress of carrying his acoustic guitar. On the off-chance that he takes this job again, he needs to take up ukulele. Or get a smaller, lightweight guitar.

 

Rhett takes a few more steps and he reaches the base of the third staircase. He’s able to see the tops of the trees and the creek connecting to the water in front of his tower. It looks considerably smaller from his new, raised position. As he approaches the final stairs upward, he pauses for a second to get the key to the tower out of his pocket.

 

He walks slowly and evenly up the last set of stairs, now unable to use the railings provided to steady himself. He only gets about halfway up before he has to stop and balance his guitar precariously against his legs. Rhett reaches up with the key and slides it into the small keyhole, unlocking the entrance to the towers main floor. He removes the key and swings the hatch up— the wood slaps loudly against itself as it falls on itself and he picks up his guitar. His other hand reaches to hold onto the railing loosely and he resumes climbing. When he steps on the final stair, he continues forward, walking on the wrap-around porch. The door to the lookout is on the South wall of the building, right where the corner meets.

 

Rhett lays his guitar down and moves the key to his dominant hand before unlocking the door. When it swings open, he’s met with musty, dry air.  _ Looks like I’ll be opening the windows for the first few hours. _

 

Not that he minded, really. Now that he’s stopped moving, he can feel the sweat cooling on the back of his knees and the base of his spine. The thought of sitting down with his legs propped up on the built-in desk to his right, with cool, fresh air washing over him is tranquil and he hasn’t even experienced it yet.

 

He pulls the key from the lock and bends down to pick his guitar back up. Rhett steps through the threshold and into his tower and takes it all in for a moment. In the center of the room, there’s a waist-high plane table, affixed with an alidade. There’s a bed and a small oven in the corners of the Western wall. On the opposite side, there’s an almost wall-length desk holding his walkie-talkie and its charger, what Rhett presumes is an atlas, stationary and a box of pencils. 

 

Rhett leans forward and slides his guitar underneath the desk, alongside a large unmarked cardboard box. Next, he lets his hiking bag fall off his shoulders and he drops it onto his bed. As tempted as he is to just lay down and go straight to sleep, he walks to the front of the tower and sits on the desk chair, nestled in the Northeastern corner.

 

It’s late afternoon by now, and the sun is shining bright and orange on the foliage. From his new vantage point, he can see down over mostly green trees. Nestled within them, there are a few warm toned ones, making themselves known and contrasting vividly with the others. Rhett’s able to tell where he walked— the flat, man-made trail standing out more clearly in the grass from this height.

 

Rhett lets his mind wander while he takes in the scene around him. He thinks back to what lead him here. It was such a short period of time, but so much had happened and it felt like he’d seismically changed. He hadn’t even bothered to tell Laura that he was going to miss his therapy appointments— he just went AWOL.

 

He hoped to God that she’d be able to connect his last visit and its themes with his sudden absence.  _ And _ that she wouldn’t blame him. 

 

Someone speaking in a crackling, mechanically-distorted voice breaks Rhett out of his reverie and he looks toward his walkie-talkie, anchored on its charging station. The person on the other end sounds gleeful, almost sing-song.

 

“Hello, Citadel Tower!”


	3. Chapter Three

**_Cody, WY_ ** **5/20/18 Sunday**

  
  


It takes Rhett a second to respond, and apparently his new co-worker is impatient.

 

“Hello? Did you make it to your tower yet? I’m  _ bored. _ ” The voice on the other side of the speaker is that of a man, but his tone makes him seem juvenile. 

 

Rhett stands, reaches forward and snatches the device off the desk in one swift motion. He hits the ‘push to talk’ button on the side with his thumb and brings it to his mouth to speak. “Just got here. Nice to meet you, too.”

 

When he releases the button, the walkie-talkie blips in acknowledgement. A second later, there’s another beep and a clearly-flustered voice explaining himself.

 

“Sorry, man. I was told you’d be here by noon. Got a little over-excited, I guess. You’re Rhett?”

 

“Yep,” Rhett declares plainly and his colleague continues on.

 

“I’m Link. I was informed that this is your first time out here. Do you need me to show you the ropes? Well, I guess not  _ show _ .” Link chuckles at himself and Rhett idly wonders if he made a mistake signing up for 2 months with this guy as his partner.

 

As tempted as Rhett is to decline, he knows he’s doing an important job and he puts his ego aside. “Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

 

“So, every day you’re going to survey the area and log the weather conditions, regional changes and possible wildfires. Hopefully you don’t get to see a real one— if you do, switch to channel one immediately and inform the surrounding lookouts. From that point, we would monitor the area minute-by-minute instead of hourly. If you look around, you should see a clipboard hangin’ up somewhere in your tower.” Rhett finds that Link is correct— the clipboard is suspended by a nail near the foot of his bed, a stack of papers tucked neatly under the metal vice. “Those are your logs for the season; you should have some spares, too. If you need more, let me know. You were briefed on how to use the Osborne Fire Finder, correct?”

 

Rhett stumbles through his response— dazed at how quickly the man on the other end had shifted gears. “U-uh, yeah.”

 

“Great. So you’ll be using the Fire Finder to measure the distance and direction of the smoke. After you get your info, you’ll write it down and report back to me or the other towers. They’re on the first channel. We’re on five. Channel one is mainly updates from other towers and whatnot. Since you’re new, switch over and introduce yourself before sundown. You shouldn’t have to talk to the group that often, though. Most of the information will be passed through me, as I’m closer to them than you are.” He pauses for a second, before tutting and concluding, “I think that’s about it. Any questions?”

 

“Could you run through the Fire Finder again? Better safe than sorry, you know?” In his tower, Rhett shifts his weight onto one foot nervously. Link had gone from child-like to professional in the blink of an eye and it was honestly a little intimidating.

 

“‘Course I can,” he replies, chipper. Rhett wonders if he was ever  _ not _ this energetic. “So, at least once and hour, you’re gonna use your binoculars and just look around. If you see anythin’ suspicious, switch over to the alidade to pinpoint exactly  _ where _ the area of concern is. As you can see, the Fire Finder is circular. Within that circle is a map, and your tower is centrally located. There’s a ruler, essentially, pulled across the map and  _ that’s _ used to determine distance.”

 

Rhett sits back down at the desk and stares at the clear lake below— trying his best to absorb the information being passed on.

 

“There are also two brass bars on either side of the map. The longer bar is your sight— you look through and adjust that to align with the one across from it. That whole apparatus rotates around the map and then the azimuth is used to determine direction.”

 

Rhett hits the button and replies, “Azimuth?”

 

“Yep. That’s how you measure the direction, and then  _ that _ combined with the distance from your tower gives us a pretty accurate estimate. It’s a lot easier than it sounds, I promise. Each inch on the metal ruler is equivalent to two miles, so if you see smoke out near Needle Mountain— how far away would that fire be?”

 

For a second, Rhett falters before standing clumsily and bending down to read the planetable. There’s roughly seven inches between the aforementioned peak and Rhett’s own tower. “Around thirteen miles away, right?” He straightens his body, but his shoulders stay tense.

 

Rhett’s device beeps and then an indecisive hum comes through the speaker. “Yes,  _ but _ when you’re logging real information please be more precise. Despite the downtime we get with this job, we can’t forget that we’re assisting firefighters and park service. Can’t get complacent, you know?”

 

The back of Rhett’s neck heats up in embarrassment. Why, he doesn’t know. Link wasn’t his boss, but the confidence he so easily exhibited was daunting at the very least. “Of course, yeah.”

 

There’s a lull in the conversation and Rhett stands stationary, unsure of his next move. What else could he ask about? Everything aside from the alidade was pretty self-explanatory— solar-powered generator, gas oven and a less-than-glamorous wooden outhouse at the base of the tower. 

 

Was it inappropriate to inquire about the other towers’ personal lives? Was there really anything  _ else _ to do out here?

 

As if reading his thoughts, Carter Tower abruptly asks, “So, what brings you out here? Gotta be somethin’ juicy.”

 

A pang of fear shoots through Rhett— the familiar feeling of a rug being ripped from under him. “Excuse me?” He intends for his voice to come out more forcefully— but it comes out meek into his intercom, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

 

“Looks like I was right!” Link punctuates his sentence with a chuckle and clarifies. “Pretty much everyone out here is running from somethin’. You newly divorced?”

 

Rhett bristles at the man’s cavalier attitude. Who the hell  _ was _ this guy?

 

How did someone this immature and brash get a job working for the government? Yeah, he was clearly knowledgeable and thorough, but that didn’t excuse his disregard for boundaries. And to think Rhett had been worrying  _ he’d _ cross a line.

 

“Uh, no, I’m not. I’m gonna go ahead and unpack my bags and relax. Work doesn’t start ‘til tomorrow, right?” Rhett doesn’t wait for a response before he continues on tersely, “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Over.”

 

He puts his walkie-talkie on the corner of the desk with more force than he probably should. Rhett can hear Link’s flustered reaction to his statement, but he’s too busy trying to ignore the feeling of exposure to pay attention. 

 

He spends the better part of an hour unpacking his bag and making his new residence feel more like a ‘home’. By the time he’s finished, the sun has vanished almost entirely.

 

It’s only after Rhett’s lying to sleep that he remembers he neglected to introduce himself to the surrounding towers. He’s tempted to do it, but he doesn’t want to bother anyone for a non-emergency.

 

And he doesn’t want Link to hear it, as contradictory as that is.

  
  


If this is the path he’s taking with his closest co-worker, he was dreading the next two months. Rhett falls into a fitful sleep while staring at the ceiling of his tower.

  
  
  


**_Cody, WY_ ** **5/21/18 Monday**

  
  


When Rhett awakens the next morning, the sun is streaming through the windows and he’s immediately reminded that he forgot to shut the curtains before he drifted off. 

 

When he looks at his watch and it reads 9:56 AM, he’s glad he’d been too annoyed to remember. He’d already received a stern correction on his accuracy last night— he didn’t need another one for punctuality. Or lack thereof. Rhett sits up slowly and while his eyes adjust to the light, he begins to recognize the faint chitter of birds hiding out in the surrounding trees. The interior of the tower is much more filled-out than it had been when he’d arrived.

 

He didn’t bring many personal items, but the few he did bring are strewn around his abode. Books stacked in a short tower in the corner of the desk, his phone plugged into the outlet, a pocket knife with a serrated blade. The clipboard hung up by his bed had been promptly switched out for his guitar bag. Maybe he’d get to play today, given that the conditions outside look uneventful. 

 

Rhett stands and stretches in place, paying extra attention to his lower back. The new bed would be an adjustment, but it was worth the sacrifice. The vista alone makes it worthwhile.

 

The sky is devoid of clouds, giving Rhett a full, panoramic view of the wide-open land around him.

 

As much as he doesn’t want to, he knows he has to make contact with Carter Tower. His flippant attitude regarding interpersonal relationships had set Rhett on edge. It had been clear by his demeanor that he’s experienced, yet he had been so socially inept. Link’s inquiry had only confused Rhett.

 

_ “Pretty much everyone out here is running from somethin’,” _ — so, what was Link running from? And how long had he been out here, how many people had Link witnessed coming and going from Citadel tower? 

 

It had to have been a decent amount of people, with the certainty of his tone. Rhett doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse, that Link is right about him, in some sense.

 

With a heavy sigh, he pads to the opposite end of his tower and lifts the communication device from its receptacle. He brings it to his mouth immediately, knowing that the longer he prolongs his response, the worse the repercussions.

 

The walkie-talkie beeps, “Morning, Carter. I apologize for my tardiness, it won’t happen again.” His voice is thick with sleep and the second he lets the button go, his face pinches into a grimace.

 

He gets a response almost instantly— so quickly that Rhett wonders if Carter had been waiting up for him. Perhaps that isn’t far-fetched, considering how expectant he’d sounded when Rhett had first arrived at his tower.

 

“Good morning, Rhett! Don’t worry, I expected it. The first week is always a rough adjustment. I covered your surroundings as best as I could.” 

 

Once again, Link’s voice is animated and almost grating. _ Of course he covered for me _ . Despite his annoyance, Rhett evens out his tone and responds.

 

“Thank you for pickin’ up my slack, man.”

 

Link sounds almost offended when his voice comes through, and it gives Rhett pause. “Of course. Like I said, everyone’s out of commission for a few days when they arrive.”

 

Rhett nods to himself before he remembers that Link can’t see him. Carter doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation, and in spite of their soured first impression, Rhett wants to keep talking.

 

“So, uh, how long have you been out here? Sounds like a while.” He punctuates his sentence with a falsified chuckle, hoping that Link buys it. Rhett doesn’t know what it is; typically he’s confident— confident enough to fake confidence, at least. But there’s something about Link that makes Rhett feel inadequate. There’s also something about him that draws Rhett in, despite his apprehension.

 

“Been doin’ this almost ten years now.” Carter doesn’t elaborate and Rhett wonders if that’s a sign to leave it at that. “‘S why I didn’t hold it against you for sleeping in. My first time out here was a hundred times worse.”

 

_ That _ seems like something Rhett has footing to talk about, so he hesitantly asks, “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah, man.” There’s a noise that sounds like Link’s adjusting in his seat before he resumes. “My first year out here, I fell and skinned my knee. That wasn’t bad in itself, but the second I looked down and saw blood— I fainted. Full-on passed out in the middle of my hike. When I came to, I was on the ground in almost-the-fetal-position and the other towers were freaking out. Thought a bear got me, or somethin’.” Link must release the ‘talk’ button— the intercom blips to indicate he’s done speaking.

 

Rhett’s eyebrows raise subconsciously as he sleepily takes in Link’s anecdote. Before he can get his thoughts together, the device beeps again and Link’s voice comes through. “Apparently I was out for two minutes.”

 

“Were you hurt bad?” Rhett asks, voice coming out quieter than he intends. He screws his face up in self-reproach—  _ Get your shit together, McLaughlin. _

 

Link doesn’t seem phased, his tone goes introspective and almost gentle. “No, thankfully. I got a bruise on my rib, but I learned my lesson and didn’t look at my knee again—  _ that’s _ for sure.” Link trails off and Rhett can hear a tinge of embarrassment behind his words.

 

“Well, that’s good,” Rhett says after a moment.

 

As he comes to his senses, he starts to think. Carter didn’t have to tell him all of this. He crosses his arms where he stands and bites his lip. The feeling of resentment and inferiority is quickly vanishing along with the haze of sleep. 

 

Perhaps he should give Link the benefit of the doubt. He’d been out here nearly a decade, as he said— of course his social skills were lacking. And he didn’t seem outright malicious; just seemed like a guy who put his foot in his mouth. How could Rhett hold that against him?

  
  


The rest of the day passes uneventfully. Link helps him log his area’s information and doesn’t seemed annoyed while he walks Rhett through it. If Rhett’s cheeks heat up when Link praises him for his accuracy, at least Link isn’t there to see it.

  
  


The conversation from the night before goes unmentioned.


	4. Chapter Four

_**Cody, WY** _ **5/23/18 Wednesday**

“Is it a person?” Rhett asks, brows furrowing as he looks out at the lush treeline. 

There’s a beep and then a hiss before Carter Tower answers him. “Nope.” 

“Hm… is it a place?”

“No.”

“A thing?” Rhett questions, eyebrows furrowing.

“M _hmm_ ,” Link responds, and Rhett can almost hear him smiling through his walkie-talkie.

“Okay… is it something you can buy?”

“Yep.”

“Is it something you can make?”

Link laughs sharply, “If you’re ambitious, yeah. Most people just buy it, though.”

Rhett lets his cheeks puff up as he blows out a slow breath. “Well, _that_ helps.”

When Link comes over the receiver, he’s already giggling. “Ask better questions, man! I wasn’t even s’posed to give you a hint.”

“‘S that the rules you play by?”

“Guess not—since I helped you,” Carter says plainly, and for reasons unknown, Rhett’s face heats up.

He clears his throat before asking, “Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

“Maybe if you get it at Costco…?” Link’s pitch raises toward the end of his sentence. “Usually not, though.”

“So it’s something I can get at a Costco, then. Is it a food?” Rhett reaches up absentmindedly and rubs his beard.

“It _is_ a food,” Carter says, elation clear in his voice. It’s infectious, apparently, because Rhett starts smiling to himself.

“Is it bread?”

Link’s tone is somewhat stern, now. “You’re gettin’ too specific. Ask some more general questions first.”

Rhett sits up straight in his chair. “Okay, so it’s _not_ bread, then.”

An acknowledging beep followed by the crackle of static. “It’s not bread. You’re kinda close, though.”

“Kinda close with bread? Is it eggs?” Rhett asks, resting his chin in his hand and going through the essentials.

“No. Alright, one more hint. What goes with bread?” There’s a creaking sound over the speaker and Rhett guesses it’s Link leaning back in his chair.

“Butter?”

When his colleague's voice comes through again, he’s excited—goading. “What _kind_ of butter, Rhett?”

“...Peanut butter?” he tries, eyebrows knitting together.

“Yes! I was thinkin’ of peanut butter. Good job.” Link’s praise is for something silly, but it flusters Rhett nonetheless. 

Since their first meeting, he’d been trying to get in Link’s good graces. Rhett knows that he’s capable—wouldn’t have gotten the job if he hadn’t been qualified, but Carter doesn’t know that. All he knows of Rhett is his name and that he’s a first-timer. And that he isn’t divorced.

“Well, I wouldn’t’ve gotten it without your hints. So, good job to you, too.” Are his cheeks red? Certainly feels that way.

“Thanks, Citadel,” Link says, without a hint of sarcasm.

Rhett ducks his head, embarrassed, despite being out of Link’s line of sight already. “‘Course.”

 

_**Cody, WY** _ **5/25/18 Friday**

“Okay—what _do_ you like, then?” he asks incredulously. They’d stumbled on the topic of food, and the contrast between their diets is startling to Rhett.

“Quit bullying me, man!” Link shoots back defensively. 

“‘M not, I just… I’d hate to cook for you.” 

“Well, you’re not, so stop whining about it.” His co-worker seems genuinely bothered by the teasing, and it makes Rhett antsy. Since the first night, they’d gotten along pretty well. Once they’d both ignored their less-than-ideal introduction, they’d settled into a nice rhythm over the week.

Wake up, exchange pleasantries, and chat in the time that isn’t occupied by cooking or logging the state of their national park. So far, Rhett had learned that Link is an only child. Both men had been raised in North Carolina. Carter’d been born there, too, unlike him.

Thus far Link had made no mention of his romantic life, and Rhett appreciates it. He’s still in the process of figuring himself out—not nearly ready to begin explaining. On the other hand, it only further intrigues Rhett. The first thing Link had brought up had been divorce. Perhaps that had been more close-to-home than he’d let on.

“Sorry, Link. I shouldn’t judge—I'll eat anything.” He doesn’t know where the need to be liked comes from, but it had reared its ugly head once the threat of tension had emerged.

Rhett’s walkie-talkie blips in his hand before Link replies. It takes a few seconds for him to talk. 

“It’s fine,” Link says, demoralized. “I’ve been a picky eater since I was a kid… used to eat like, three puddin’ cups for lunch.”

Rhett laughs and pushes his ‘talk’ button midway. “Oh gosh. Please tell me you’ve gotten better.”

When Rhett forfeits his turn speaking, Link makes no move to jump in.

“Oh, _no_. How are you out here? Actually—you’re perfect for this job, then, aren’t you?” Rhett’s leg bounces in place as he immerses himself in conversation. Strange, how quickly he’d opted to disregard the much-coveted landscape surrounding him.

Link presses his receiver and heaves a sigh into the microphone. “I’m fine. I take vitamins, and drink that shake for breakfast every morning. Remember?”

“Well… that’s reassuring.” Rhett lets the statement sit for a moment before realizing how open to interpretation it had been—Link might take it as Rhett mocking him. “Can’t have my partner passin’ out again.”

The second he says ‘partner,’ he curses himself internally. But Link either doesn’t care or hadn’t noticed.

“Aw, you care about my well-being, Citadel?”

Rhett stutters off-mic for a second before finding his footing. “More like it’d look bad if the tower closest to me died.”

Link sounds pensive when he answers. “Oh, yeah. Suppose that’s true.”

Unsure of what to say, Rhett sets his receiver on his desktop and begins organizing his papers. 

With the help of Link, he flies through the hourly logs, which so far had been largely uneventful. Yesterday he’d finally woken early—and as he’d leaned over his tower’s railing to spit a mouthful of toothpaste and water, he’d seen a buck and a doe grazing near the lake. Rhett has hunted a little before, but these hadn’t looked like any deer he remembered from North Carolina.

When he’d radioed Link, whispering to him excitedly, the guy had just chuckled and confirmed it: mule deer. Apparently they were relatively common—Rhett had just missed them, sleeping in late.

As Rhett tucks the filled-out paperwork into a folder, his mind wanders back to food. His meals thus far are nothing to write home about, but he suspects they’re more rounded-out than Link’s. The man had bristled when he’d brought up someone making him food—does he have an ex-partner who’d reluctantly cooked, complaining all the while? That would make sense, and the thought saddens Rhett.

Link can be brash, for sure, but he doesn’t seem all that bad. Without thinking, Rhett picks his receiver back up and hits the ‘push to talk’ button.

“Hey, Link?”

“Yeah?”

“When’s the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”

Carter must’ve moved to respond before the question had registered, because he stammers over the speaker for a few seconds before a long beep cuts him off.

“Citadel? Can you come onto channel four? Over,” an unfamiliar feminine voice says.

The abrupt call to action runs Rhett’s blood cold. He’d yet to introduce himself to the others—the first night had been taxing enough, and he’s sure he’s about to be chastised for his absence. His free hand switches channels and he presses the button on the side of his radio.

“Hello, sorry. I’m here,” Rhett says, eyes closing nervously as he anticipates his own demise. First time as a lookout, and he’d already managed to get on _two_ people’s bad sides. Her use of the sign-off reminds Rhett almost too late how he’s supposed to end transmissions. “Uh, over.”

“No worries! I was just putting in a food order. It’s nice to finally meet you, though. I’m Stevie. Over.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, alright. I’m Rhett. ‘S nice to talk to you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier—I got distracted.” Once the words are out, Rhett hopes to God she won’t inquire as to why. “Over.”

“That’s fine! It’s understandable, everyone needs time to adjust. You got a pen and paper? Over.”

Rhett scrambles to find a clean sheet of paper to write on, and when he locates one, he snatches a pen from his desk. “Now I do. Over.”

“Canned peaches, corn, beans, pasta sauce and vienna sausages. For fresh stuff, Chase wants to split a bag of brown rice with John, and I want some boxed pasta. Then just general supplies: batteries, ibuprofen, another first-aid kit, and bug repellent. If you or Link have anything to add, go for it. Over.”

He just barely follows her list, scribbling out the items in an almost-illegible scrawl. He’ll have to redo it, but it’ll work for now. “Got it. When do I have to put the order in? Over.”

Stevie pushes her receiver’s button and hums over the line. “Ideally, you’ll put the order in, retrieve it and pass it along to Carter’s supply drop before Monday night, so whenever works for you. Try not to take too long though; we’d like to eat,” she chuckles, but Rhett can tell she isn’t entirely joking. “Over.”

“Will do, I promise. Over.” Rhett isn’t taking chances anymore. He would be out here in near-isolation for two months. He can’t afford to make enemies.

His walkie-talkie beeps and then Stevie’s voice comes through once again. “Alright, well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doin’ before I radioed. If you need me, you know where to find me. Over.”

“I’ll definitely try to be more active in the other channels,” Rhett says sheepishly. “And the food will be in Carter’s supply drop on time. Over.”

“Sounds good. Enjoy the rest of your day, Rhett. Over.” Her voice has an air of finality, so Rhett sets his walkie-talkie back to the fifth channel.

“Hey, Link? I’m back. Stevie wanted to put in the food order for this weekend. Do you have anything to add to it?” He reads through the list, struggling to make out a few of the entries.

When he lets his ‘push to talk’ go, Link responds immediately.

“Oh, you met Stevie, then? Love her.” Rhett’s stomach twists, but Link continues. “Family-size jar of peanut butter, more pomegranates, almonds, tortilla chips, a lime, and two avocados, please.”

Again, Rhett struggles to write down the information as fast as it’s given to him. This time, however, he feels comfortable enough to ask Link to repeat himself, and as Link complies, Rhett scans the list for accuracy and is pleased to find no errors. He drops his receiver onto the desk to add his own proclivities to the paper.

Rhett scribbles down ‘beef jerky, rice, baked beans, and soup’ before he’s interrupted once again by the typical beep and hiss.

“To answer your question from earlier,” Rhett looks up from the paper, “it’s been a while.” Link’s voice is unreadable, and it makes Rhett rue bringing it up even more than he already does.

Rhett thinks back to nights of fast food picked up after work and tv-dinners stored in his freezer for times when he hadn’t felt like cooking—which had been more often than not. He and Donna had gone to restaurants far too fancy for Rhett’s liking when they’d been dating. It had been months since he’d gone back to N.C. to visit his family, opting to work overtime instead. He can’t remember the last time he’d had something that could’ve qualified as a ‘home-cooked’ meal.

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

_**Cody, WY** _ **5/26/18 Saturday**

The next morning, Rhett awakens early to fulfill his duties. Luckily, he only needs to carry the necessities and the supply list. 

He had already unpacked his bag the night after he’d arrived to his lookout, so he tucks the paper and a few energy bars into the front pocket before refilling his Camelbak at the base of his tower. Once he’s sure he’s equipped for the hike, he sets off and shoots a message to Carter to inform Link and ask a favor of him.

Rhett’s voice is slightly winded as he climbs the hill leading away from his lookout. “Heading to the supply drop. Can you monitor my tower while I’m out? Should be fine—I didn’t see anyone camping and the weather’s supposed to be good.”

“Yeah, I got you. Still gotta fill out the paperwork, though.” 

His walkie-talkie beeps in finality and Rhett sighs half-heartedly before pushing to talk. “Yeah, yeah. But you gotta give me the logs, buddyroll,” he teases.

“Oh…” 

Rhett laughs off-mic. 

“Suppose you’re right. That’s fine by me, though.”

The next climb is steeper than the first, so Rhett puts his receiver in the pocket of his dark gray cargo shorts. His thighs burn as he ascends, hands finding purchase on the straps of his backpack. The ground below him crunches as he steps—stagnant dirt rises into the air with each footfall. As he makes it about halfway up the knoll, his breathing becomes more labored and he has to force his lungs to regulate his respiration.

He’s lucky that he’d started his journey early—the sun is shining bright on his back. If he’s quick, he might make it to the supply drop and back to his tower before noon. 

Rhett reaches the peak and grabs onto a branch, steadying himself as he steps down. The bark scratches his palm lightly as he descends the hill and lets the limb of the tree go. The slope tapers down as he walks, transitioning into level, flat ground. Rhett knows from his hike out to his tower that now he’s going to be traversing mostly-even land.

He reaches back into his pocket, retrieving his walkie-talkie and swinging it while he walks. He can’t think of much to say, but he desperately wants to continue talking to Carter. With both ignoring their rocky start, they seem to enjoy each other’s company.

Rhett doesn’t think before he brings the radio up to his mouth, pressing the button and uttering, “Wish me luck.” 

He’s only half-joking.

“You’ll do great, man. It’s less hiking than your walk out here—wait, you have to hike back. So maybe not… but, you’ll still make it!” Link sounds confident despite his error, and Rhett huffs a laugh to himself.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. How’s your morning goin’?”

“I’m doing well, just finishing up this book. It’s pretty good—‘s an autobiography,” Link’s voice raises in pitch as he questions his words, “about an adventurer in the 1900’s… kind of reminds me of being out here.”

“Yeah?” Rhett asks, stepping over a jagged rock in his path.

“Yeah. Want me to put it in my supply drop when I’m done? Probably won’t be re-reading it anytime soon.”

A small smile breaks on Rhett’s face. “Sure—if you don’t mind.”

“Would I have offered if I minded?”

Rhett presses his ‘push to talk’ early enough that Link can hear his scoff over the speaker. “ _Okay_ , smartass.”

Link sounds like he’s grinning behind the microphone. “How’s your hike going?”

“Boring, mostly. Less so, now.”

“Oh, is that so, Citadel?” Link asks smugly.

Rhett chooses not to respond to that, instead wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The sun is beating on his neck and he’s due for a break, in his opinion. He pauses his steady pace to reach back for the rubber straw of his water bottle—taking a long drink and then a ragged inhale. He pockets his walkie-talkie and then takes his phone out to check the remaining distance to the supply drop.

According to the application, he’s got roughly three miles to go. A heavy sigh leaves him as he remembers the next journey is going to be far worse. God knows how many pounds of food he’s going to have to lug back to his tower, and then farther to Link’s supply drop.

-

When he finally makes it to Citadel supply drop, he slides his backpack from his shoulders and unzips it. He digs down into the pocket and retrieves the list and an energy bar, holding them between his teeth and kneeling down. As he had before, he inserts ‘ _4-3-5-5_ ’ into the lock’s mechanism. It opens with a satisfying click and Rhett drops the latch into the xanthous grass beside the box. 

Rhett lifts the lid and reaches up to pluck the items from his mouth, depositing the list into the supply drop and then shutting it. He turns and sits on the corner of the box, unwrapping the power bar and taking a bite. His free hand goes to his pocket to pull out his walkie-talkie, bringing it to his lips.

“Made it,” Rhett informs Link through a mouthful of food.

“And you’re taking a lunch break, it sounds like,” Carter says jokingly.

“Mhmm. Found some energy bars in the tower and figured they wouldn’t be missed.”

“Ooh, I’m gonna tell Stevie.” Rhett rolls his eyes and takes another bite—downing half the bar in one go. “Stealing government property this early on? Someone’s itchin’ to get fired.” 

Rhett nervously pauses his chewing and his heart beats hard in his ribcage.

The walkie-talkie blips once again and Link’s voice comes through, panicked. “I’m just kidding! Gosh, sorry, that’s not funny, is it? Anything left in the tower is free game. No worries.”

Rhett sighs through his nose and speaks almost inaudibly through the snack. “Scared me, man.”

“I’m sorry! I should’ve thought that one through. You’re too new for those kinda jokes.”

Rhett quickly swallowed. “‘S alright. Just a joke, like you said. Anyways, I’m headed back now.” He shoves the remainder of the energy bar into his mouth and puts the wrapper in his pocket, standing from his makeshift seat. He reaches down and grabs the lock, looping it through the metal rings, clipping it shut, and randomizing the numerical rolling mechanism.

He finishes chewing as he zips his bag up and puts it back on his shoulders.

-

The walk back to his tower passes faster than his hike out. Link entertains him by talking excitedly about the book he’d just finished. It sounds interesting, but maybe that’s just Carter’s excitement shining through.

When he gets close to his tower, he sees the lake and makes a split-second decision to take a dip. He tells Link, and gets a laugh and a ‘have fun’ in response. Rhett leaves his belongings in the grass and dives in. The cool water soothes his sore muscles and washes the salty sweat off his skin. After a few minutes of leisurely swimming, Rhett pulls himself up and out—standing and letting the sun soak up the droplets on his shoulders. Once he’s dry, he bends down to retrieve his shirt, shorts and bag and begins his trek back up his tower. He enters the lookout, flops down in bed to switch his receiver’s channel, and exhaustedly informs Stevie that the list has been delivered.

“Great! I’ll let our guy in town know. Should be ready by tomorrow. Over.”

Rhett sighs off-mic, already feeling the ache in his muscles. He pushes the ‘talk’ button and replies with, “Sounds good. Over.”

He puts his radio back to Link. “Made it back. I am _starving_.”

“Go make yourself some dinner,” Link says. “You earned it.”

Rhett sighs heavily. “Don’t wanna. So tired,” he whines.

Link just laughs. “If you don’t eat, you’re gonna wake up even _more_ starving.”

He’s right, so Rhett sighs again and sits up. “Fine,” he mumbles in mock-annoyance, and ambles over to the oven.

 

_**Cody, WY** _ **5/27/18 Sunday**

Link’s crackling voice wakes Rhett the next morning. 

“Mornin’, Rhett. I just got word that they got the supply list. It should be in the box by nine—whenever you feel like pickin’ it up. Also, there’s a storm comin’ up soon. It’s predicted for later this week. Typically, that means monitoring the weather—making sure that the lightning doesn’t start any fires and letting the dispatchers know in the event that there are.” Link’s tone is far too energetic for how early it is, and the information takes a second to register in Rhett’s brain.

Rhett rolls onto his side and grabs his walkie-talkie from its resting spot on the floor beside him. “Morning,” he says, voice thick with sleep and eyes closed. “How long we got?” he questions, slurring his words. After he releases the button, he kicks himself.

Luckily, Link understands what he’s trying to ask. “Weatherman said it’s lookin’ like this weekend.”

“Mm. What time is it now?” 

“Seven-fifteen. You missed _all_ your logs yesterday,” Link said teasingly. “Fell asleep at eight like a grandma.”

“Can I have the logs, please?” Rhett asks, sitting up and yawning. There’s a few seconds of silence before he gets an answer. He stands and walks to the window, looking out toward Carter tower.

“I sup _pose_ ,” Link says in mock-acquiescence.

“Thank you, Link.”

Another pause. “Don’t mention it, Rhett.”

-

They’re in the middle of exchanging now-dated information when Link’s notified that the supplies have been delivered. Rhett sighs and begins packing his bag with food for the hike. This one would be worse than yesterday, but at least he’d have more to eat than just soup and granola bars.

They don’t talk as Rhett walks this time. He puts his nose to the grindstone, faster—determined to make it there and back quicker than yesterday. He alternates between jogging and speed-walking and arrives at Citadel supply drop in record time, sweat clinging to his lower back.

He opens the lock with ease, and when he lifts the lid, he sighs heavily. How he’ll fit everything into his backpack, he doesn’t know. There are two grocery bags filled to the brim. As he unpacks them, he notices something that hadn’t been on the list.

Link’s the experienced one, so Rhett turns to him for questioning. “Carter?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a box of Nutter Butters in here. That wasn’t on the list. What should I do?” He shifts his weight to his left foot.

“Oh! Those are mine. Birthday present from Mike.”

Rhett’s brow furrows. “Birthday?”

Link sounds sheepish. “Yeah, it’s this Friday. You, uh, want some?”

“Of your birthday present?” Rhett’s voice is incredulous.

“You can have half, if you want.”

“You _sure_?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” Carter says candidly.

Rhett just shakes his head and thanks Link, getting a nonchalant response.

It takes him a few minutes to situate everything—the zippers of his backpack strain with the load. He lifts the bag with a grunt and slips it onto his shoulders, clipping the chest strap for added stability.

He’s not able to walk as fast as he had on his hike out. Maybe even slower than his first trek to his tower.

The two hills leading to the lookout are particularly bad. With the flat land, he at least has the level ground to ease the weight. When he reaches the first slope, the small of his back twinges uncomfortably and he grimaces, but continues taking laborious steps up the incline.He makes a mental note to do some stretches once he gets back to his tower—needing to soothe his tense muscles.

When Rhett makes it back, he unpacks his food and opens Link’s birthday present. He leaves the majority of the treats for Link and tucks his away in the cardboard box beneath his desk. Why, he doesn’t know. Not like he needs to hide them.

A heavy sigh leaves his chest as he realizes he’s still got a few miles to go—new land to cover, too. But he’d be providing the other towers with their sustenance, so he makes his way down the stairs with a lighter load this time.

-

Rhett radioes Link as he drags himself up the lookout’s staircase for the second time that day. His voice is winded, but his back feels worse than his lungs do. “I am _not_ looking forward to this part of the job. Gosh.” His feet unintentionally stomp on the metal as he climbs, his legs too tired to step normally.

Link had begun his hike once Rhett had delivered the supplies to Carter supply drop. Apparently he only has a mile left ‘til he makes it to the box, and Rhett was almost annoyed. Of course Link’s accustomed to the hiking, but it doesn’t dull the envy Rhett has for his ease.

“You’ll get used to it, promise.”

“My back won’t. I gotta do some stretches—hopin’ that’ll help.”

A snicker comes through his speaker. “You doin’ yoga, Citadel?”

“Yes,” Rhett says plainly. “Have to.”

“Huh. Why?”

“I’m six-foot-seven. Lower lumbar problems.”

Link’s voice is flustered and confused. “ _What_? How did I not know that you’re a giant? To think I thought _I_ was tall.”

Rhett lets the question sit for a second, far too used to the comments about his height, and Link continues on.

“What do you look like—aside from bein’ enormous?”

That gives him pause. “Uh… hm. Well, I’m handsome as hell, for starters.” Rhett lets go of his ‘push to talk’ to hear Carter’s response, and Link laughs over the speaker. “Got dark blonde hair and a beard. I’m a little pasty. Green eyes. I’ve got a little bit of a belly. Hopin’ all this hiking takes care of it. Pretty fit aside from that. _”_ He doesn’t know what else to say, so he surrenders the line to Link.

“Six-foot-seven and a lumberjack. You don’t sound wrong.”

“Huh?”

“You do sound handsome,” Link says, unperturbed.

A blush colors his cheeks at the compliment and he chooses to bypass it, unsure of how to respond. “What about you?”

“Blue eyes. Glasses. Used to have dark brown—almost black hair, but unfortunately it’s gotten a lot grayer now. I’m pretty tan, especially after bein’ out here this long. Kinda lanky, I guess. Six feet, even.”

Unfortunately? Link’s clearly self-conscious and Rhett scrambles for a way to neutralize it.

“You, uh… you sound handsome, too.” Rhett’s eternally grateful for the proxy between him and Link. His face is hot and he’s sure it’s showing. “As for the grays—I think you sound distinguished… like a professor or somethin’,” he ducks his head in shame.

Carter sounds as embarrassed as Rhett when he answers quietly, nearly a minute later. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, a hand rubbing across his face. Trying to will away the flush in his skin.


End file.
